Wants and Needs
by 258494
Summary: AU! Clint has been in multiple foster homes, each seemed to be unfitting for him, until he meets Phil Coulson. PLEASE READ NOTE** INSIDE FIRST CHAPTER.
1. Mr Coulson

**Thanks for taking the time to read this story, please note this story is AU (Alternate Universe). Clint, Tony , and Loki are cute little elementary school kids. Bruce, Steve, Natasha, and Thor are middle school students.**

**Summary: Clint has been in multiple foster homes, each seemed to be unfitting for him, until he meets Phil Coulson.**

**Rated: T due to the possible future chapters if this story comes out well.**

***Those who are reading Fight, Live, Retaliate, I'm working on those chapters too as I am uploading this. Chapter 14 of Fight, Live, Retaliate is already done, but will not be uploaded until Tuesday or Wednesday.  
**

**NOTE**: Apparently IHC had gotten the wrong idea and thought it was okay to upload my story. IHC was one of my test readers and DID NOT write this story. I sent IHC a message after learning what happened and hopefully we'll get this straightened out soon. This story originally wasn't supposed to be released until June 2****nd****, but due to unruly circumstances, I will release the first chapter now. ****To sort of "prove" that I'm the writer to this story, I have added a chapter two preview.**

**at Acrylic's review. Mistake has been corrected, thanks for catching it.  
**

Wants and Needs

Chapter 1

Mr. Coulson

Coulson eyed all the children in the adoption center's playroom with warm, gentle eyes. Even though he did an excellent job keeping his facial expression soft and light, he couldn't help but notice that the children still seemed to look at him momentarily before fleeing into their games.

"Mr. Coulson?" A lady asked as she approached Phil with a clipboard.

"Please, call me Phil." He suggested, shaking her extended hand.

"I'm Amanda." She grinned flirtatiously. "Come this way. The children are playful, but hesitant, so you'll have to move slowly."

Phil nodded and stood behind Amanda as she squatted down and allowed the children to come to her instead of the other way around. He assumed it was about a trust bond, and eventually, other children began clinging to Clint's pants leg too. They sat on his dress shoe and asked him for a "leg ride."

"Who might you be?" Phil asked as he sat with his legs crisscrossed.

"I'm Max! I'm six!" The boy shouted cheerfully before extending his hand to reached for another. A girl squeezed her way through the crowd and let out a shy smile. "This is Emily, my sister. She's four."

"And a half!" The girl added.

"Nice to meet you." Phil greeted, lending them each a finger to shake.

After a few hours of socializing, the kids dispersed back into their games, laughing and playing with the use of props and their imagination.

"That's all the children Phil, any you'd like to adopt?"

Phil thought for a while and removed his tie to help him breathe after getting to know such high energies. He looked around and saw a boy who was huddled in the corner, away from all the interactions. He watched as the boy set up a tower of cube letter blocks, stacking from the bottom to the top, letters C-L-I-N-T-X-B-A-R-T-O-N.

He watched as the boy walked about three feet back and held a cheap plastic bow with a suction arrow in his hands. The boy took a deep breath and drew back the arrow with almost perfect form. The blonde boy took aim and released his finger off the inexpensive string material. The arrow crossed through the air, skewing messily off course before hitting nothing.

"Nice shot Barfton!" one of the children mocked.

Phil could see Clint flinch at the boy's rude remark before angrily taking up the bow again and firing another arrow. This time, the arrow made its mark. The suction knocked the letter "X" block in the center with enough velocity that the B-A-R-T-O-N blocks landed smoothly right on top of the C-L-I-N-T blocks.

Still loaded with anger, the boy took a Nerf gun off the floor and checked it for ammo. He quickly snapped the cylinder shut and struggled to cock the plastic gun back. After hearing the click, he fired. He repeated this, shooting the blocks out of his little tower in alphabetical order until it was reduced to a single T.

"I haven't met that boy." Phil commented. He could feel a smile form across his face, and instantly, he knew this was the child he wanted to adopt and connect with.

Amanda frowned. "We actually don't bother with this one. He's troublesome and tends to not do well with others. He's about to be put in another foster system that deals with kids much like him."

"Don't bother?" Phil snapped. "You didn't even give him a chance, we me!"

"He doesn't approach—"

"That doesn't mean he's trouble! Maybe he's shy or insecure!" Phil continued to rant.

* * *

Clint put the Nerf gun back on the floor, exactly how he had found it after cleaning up after himself. He watched as the man who's been here for a good two hours argue with Amanda. The bitch of a caretaker.

Even though Clint was eight, he could already analyze the defensive expression that the man in the suit was holding. It was a similar expression his mother would use when she protected him. An expression he hadn't seen since he was four.

On the other hand, he could tell that Amanda was unimpressed, by the way her lip pulled to the corner of her mouth.

He slowly moved closer and could hear Amanda's venomous words, which he soon began to believe. No one wanted him, he was brought into homes then pushed back out after managing to screw up. He didn't want to go through the emotional stress again. He just didn't want it.

He held firmly to the ground and held back the tears that welled up at the of his eyes. Clint moved quickly, purposely bumping his shoulder against Phil's thigh roughly.

Clint didn't realize how tall the man was and was forced to look up as the man looked down.

The child gazed with only hate in his eyes. "Don't bother with me mister. I'm, troublesome." He voiced low and hushed.

Phil was taken-back by what the young child was saying. It scared Phil because he knew, the boy was taking these words to heart.

"Clint!" Amanda spoke sharply before grabbing the tiny wrist and pulling him away. "Apologize!"

Clint looked down, unwilling to produce anymore words.

"It's really alright." Phil responded while sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sure he means no harm."

"No. He's really trouble Phil." Amanda clarified.

Being an agent, Phil could see an ongoing tension between Amanda and Clint. Despite how calm and uncaring Clint's expression was showing, he could see almost every muscle in the tiny body was tensed as if it were bracing itself for an oncoming attack.

"I'll be right back." She added before dragging Clint out of the playroom.

Suddenly feeling uninterested in the other children, Coulson secretly stalked out of the playroom behind Amanda. He ducked behind walls as he heard the footsteps lead him through the foster center. He was grateful he came on a non-busy hour, because he felt awkward playing James Bond in a foster center.

He heard the footsteps stop and decided to take a peak from his wall, but didn't advance.

"You know. You may have just ruined all chances for that perfectly good man to adopt a child, you know that?" He heard Amanda spoke mercilessly. "We should just have you shipped out to the next foster center, because frankly Clint, I don't think I can take any more of you!"

"Go ahead." He heard a small voice respond dimly.

"You think this is a joke? We rescued you from an abusive home and this is how you repay us?"

Phil saw Clint jump onto the indoor bench in an attempt to get closer into Amanda's face. "What's the difference?" He screamed. Phil was somewhat confused by the statement until he saw Amada's hand raised. She swiped her open palm through the air and slapped Clint against the cheek, hard enough that he fell down, but luckily, not off the bench.

Clint held his cheek for comfort and bit back, but his shallow breathing was obvious; he was going to fight the tears even if he had to draw blood to his lip.

"Hey!" Without thinking, Phil shouted through the echoing hallway and Amanda turned around. "I want to adopt Clint."

"Phil, there are—"

"Please, Amanda. Call me Mr. Coulson." He spoke coldly before walking to Clint who had buried his face in his arms. He ran his hand along Clint's shaking spine, and felt the boy try to pull back. He sighed as he sat down, waving Amanda off to fetch the adoption papers. "Hey there." He spoke gently.

The blonde peaked out from his arms and straightened himself up, acting as if nothing had ever happened. With his mouth pressed into a pout, he huffed stubbornly. "You wouldn't want me. I'm trouble." He repeated.

"That can't be true. I don't even know you." Coulson smiled genuinely. "I think we can make great friends."

Clint raised an eyebrow, snarling as he said, "what makes you think that?"

The agent wanted to smile as he saw the small boy try his best at appearing as a threat. "First off we have a few things in common."

"Like what?"

"Well, we both have short hair."

"That doesn't count."

Coulson thought for a moment, unsure if it was a good idea to pull out his firearm, but after seeing Clint unfazed by his words, he shoved his reluctance away.

Clint watched curiously as Mr. Coulson shifted away from him a bit. He thought the man was readjusting his pants or belt, until he saw a gun come into view.

Coulson unloaded the weapon and put the ammo casing safely in his pocket. After checking the barrel and safety clip, he held the gun out flatly in his palm. "We're both great shots." He winked. "Wanna hold it?"

The eight year old eagerly took the weapon out of the agent's palm and felt the heavy weight in his tiny hands. He began to look at every centimeter of the firearm, taking in every detail from his sight and from his touch. He smiled when he saw his distorted reflection in the gun, puffing his cheeks so they looked more stretched out.

It confused Coulson how a young child could be so comfortable with a weapon. Children may have used harmless plastic knives when playing with a kitchen toy set, but if they were in a live kitchen, there was absolutely no way would a child dive for the most pointy knife in the cabinet.

He heard footsteps approaching them and urged Clint to quickly toss it back.

Clint did easily, but was unable to wipe the dorky smile on his face. He was still excited after being able to hold a real gun. How many boys could do that?

Amanda and another lady came with a clipboard. The woman handed Coulson the clipboard with a pen attached to it and took a seat next to him on the long bench.

"Hello Mr. Coulson, I'm Melissa Brooks, I hear you want to adopt Clint?" She asked professionally, adjusting her glasses as she double checked the adoption papers on the clipboard.

"Yes," he responded earnestly, "I believe we'd get along just fine."

"Amanda, please prepare Clint for leave, Mr. Coulson, please walk with me."

Coulson gave Clint a pat on the back and the blond frowned as he hopped off the bench to follow the caretaker. Phil stood up and followed behind Melissa as she walked through the adoption center.

"Usually," she began, "after doing a background check on the parent, we would do supervised visits before putting the child in full custody."

Coulson nodded. "I understand."

"But this time, we aren't doing that for Clint Barton." She added, brushing her hair away from her eyes. "I respect all children here, but Clint can't have a place here anymore. He has difficulty socializing and you know how it is with children who doesn't know better, they torment and tease him. I would like to ask if you could take full custody of Clint immediately, seeing that government officials themselves had recommended you as exceptionally responsible and with reports of you having prior experience with child care."

Coulson was speechless for a bit. He wasn't exactly prepared to take Clint home so soon, but he accepted whole heartedly. Melissa thanked Coulson excessively for accepting a responsibility on short notice, but he shrugged off the appreciation as if it were no more than a simple favor.

They walked back to the bench with papers signed and finalized, and soon after, Clint began to approach them with a backpack on his back. His facial expression no longer showed it, but the way he moved with energy and passion told Coulson that Clint was happier than he let on.

"Ready to go?" Coulson asked raising an eyebrow at the small backpack, unsure if there were any more to Clint's belongings.

Clint gave a firm nod and Phil shrugged and the two exited the facility.

As they walked to the black car, Coulson helped Clint into the backseat and strapped him in with a seatbelt. He moved to the driver seat, plugged in the car keys, and buckled in. "So is that all of your belongings?" He asked as he adjusted the review mirror.

"Yup." Clint replied. "Most of the clothes here are shared."

"Ah. Then, we should go clothes shopping." the agent suggested as switched highways to the nearest mall.

"Mr. Coulson." Clint piped up a little.

"Yes?"

He shifted nervously in the back of his seat before facing the window. "Nothing."

Coulson smiled lightly when he saw the window reflect the image of another excited smile concealed against the boy's lips. He felt good that everything was going out fine, a little bit, too fine. He wondered why people would think of Clint as being troublesome. Clint seemed like a scared, sensitive fellow who put on an aggressive front to mask his vulnerability, yet, it doesn't seem that Clint was capable of hurting anybody.

They pulled into the mall and Phil scooped Clint out of his black SUV. He felt as Clint had a near death grip on his pointer finger as they walked into the mall, but upon looking at his expression, Clint looked strong and bashful.

They walked to the nearest clothing store and Phil began to rummage through stacks of clothing. "Anything you like so far kid?" He asked.

Clint shrugged. "It doesn't really matter," he replied sitting from a seat, "I'm fine with anything."

The agent pulled his head out of the mess of clothing. "I don't want to pick something you don't like." He responded honestly. "So please look around and find something you'd want to wear."

Barton's shoulders fell in defeat and he got off from his seat to choose a shirt. He pulled out a purple shirt with nothing but red crosshairs in the center and showed it to Coulson.

"Looks nice." Phil commented with a grin, happy that Clint was able to choose for himself. In the end, they bought a few blue jeans, some khaki shorts, and multiple shirts that were mainly red, black, or purple. After getting other essentials, they walked around the mall some more, and Phil could see that Clint was eyeing the Lego store.

He nudged Clint inside the toy store and took a seat on a Lego bench sculpture as he loosely watched the boy interact with the toys.

There was a table with an array of Lego parts for play and Clint took the pieces in his hands, fascinated by how they clicked together. With astounding memory, he began to replicate the gun that Coulson had. He remembered seeing all the pieces and how the gun parts moved when Coulson was disengaging it. He recreated the sliding barrel, to a moving safety latch, and even had a Lego ammo case that could slid in and out.

"Nice gun you made there!" a staff employee commented as he approached Clint.

Clint mumbled a quick apology and began to take the gun apart, until the employee put his hands over the boy's fingers.

"Hey, don't be sorry," the employee explained, "I want to put this in the display box for show."

Clint was unsure what to say, so he simply nodded before running to Coulson. He propped himself up on the Lego bench and buried his head into Coulson's torso.

"Hey, what's wrong buddy?" Phil asked as he patted Clint's head.

The employee came up to Phil with a friendly shrug. "Sorry if I scared your kid man. I just wanted to put his Lego creation in the display box, then he fled."

"It's fine, he's just a bit shy to adults. So, what did he make?"

"A detailed gun with moving parts, it looks incredible." The man replied. "Here, I want to give you this flyer."

Phil took it in his hands and read the flyer.

LEGO CREATION CONTEST

SHOW OFF YOUR LEGO CREATIONS WITH A CHANCE TO WIN $200 WORTH OF LEGOS ALONG WITH $50 WORTH OF CASH!

WHEN: 6PM – 9PM

WHERE: AT PARTICIPATING LEGO STORES

DIVISION A

AGES 5-8

DIVISION B

AGES 9-13

DIVISION C

AGES 14-18

DIVISION D

AGES 18+

*THERE IS A $5 REGISTRATION FEE.

"Thanks." Phil spoke eagerly as he sought this opportunity for Clint to socialize. "I think he'll love this."

"No problem," the employee said, "the contest is next Saturday, oh, and here." He handed Phil a box of 300 basic Lego pieces. "Just a little something for the kid for making an amazing model for our display purposes."

Phil watched as the employee walked off and gave Clint a little reassuring shake. "Hey, he's gone now. There's nothing to be afraid of." He cooed with a chuckle.

Clint popped his head out of the crook of Phil's arm and gave him another stubborn pout. "I wasn't scared!"

"Sure you weren't." Phil joked as he pushed a box of Legos to Clint. "The employee wanted to give this to you, for making that gun out of Legos."

They walked out of the store while Clint examined the back of the box, reading the pieces that it contained. As they walked out of the mall and back into the black SUV, Coulson thumped his fingers repeatedly against the steering wheel.

"Something the matter Mr. Coulson?" Clint asked as he clutched the box in his hands.

"You can call me Phil." He began, "And, Clint, I'm going to have to enroll you into a new school that's closer to my home, so you can't attend the one you used to attend. Is that alright?"

"Why won't it be?" Clint asked with a questionable look. "It's not like I had friends over there anyway."

Coulson frowned when he heard those words and the two drove home in silence.

* * *

After unloading their bags from the car into the Phil's house, Clint stepped in with caution. He knew this was no longer his territory nor was it public territory. He was stepping into Coulson's territory, and it could have been a whole new game field.

The clothes shopping and the whole Lego stunt could have just been a trap; he wouldn't be stupid enough to fall for it. _Not this time._

He began to obediently shuffle through the house, putting things away exactly where Coulson had asked and keeping a fair distance to not invade in any personal space. He continued to stand, and didn't dare to sit on any upholstery until he was given permission to.

Coulson stared at Clint. He knew exactly what was going through his mind. "You don't have to wait for me to offer you to sit down. Do so whenever you feel." Coulson had been an agent for the past five years and had already dealt with persons from all sorts of backgrounds, from the casual psychopath to the heavily abused.

Though, even with Coulson's interpersonal understanding, Clint was still cautious. "It's fine." He stated stiffly.

The older male sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a seat across from the younger boy and looked at him sympathetically. "I don't want you to feel afraid of me." Coulson admitted. "But I can tell that you do." He looked away, feeling awkward to have such an intense conversation with a child. "I'm not asking you to trust me, not right away, but please understand, I would never hurt you intentionally."

Clint tilted his head. "Intunshunally?"

Coulson laughed. "I would never do anything that I know will hurt you." He gave Clint a pat on the head. "Why don't you head off to bed? You have a big day tomorrow. It's the first room to the right."

* * *

Clint snuggled into the bed sheets. They were warm, soft, and something he never felt in a long time. Sure, the adoption center had bed sheets, but his roommates were always stealing his.

He tossed around in the bed, suddenly feeling a bit too safe. His heart started to race and panic began to rise up his throat. He choked dryly and sat up to try to settle his body. Taking deep breaths like he was taught, he tried calming down. His breathing became more rapid and his finger began to tremble. He pushed himself into the corner of his room and bed, hugging his knees tightly. He sobbed into his shorts, letting out a whimper here and there.

_I'm going to find you Clint, no need to wait up for me…_

Clint took in a sharp breath of air and covered his ears.

_And you will listen to me you little cunt._

He began to shake his head and pushed his neck down deeper into his knees. His back rubbed against the walls, but he continued to try to back up further. He heard a menacing laughter ring through his ears and he let out a wail before Phil quickly opened the door.

"Clint!" He shouted in worry, getting onto the bed and cupping Clint's face in his calloused hands. "Clint, look at me kiddo. It's alright buddy, come on, you're fine!" He brushed his thumbs over Clint's cheeks, wiping the tears away and the fragile child slowly opened his water brushed eyes before leaping into the comfort that was Phil Coulson.

"There, there…" he continued to coo in a hushed voice. They remained still for a good ten minutes before Clint pulled away.

" 'm sorry." He mumbled before tucking himself away again.

"It's okay buddy, don't be sorry." the agent assured. "No one can hurt you now. Can you tell me what's wrong?"

Clint looked away, not ready to speak.

"Would you like me to stay with you?" He asked, which Clint nodded to. Coulson went to his desk to grab his work files and returned in less than a minute. With a pen in hand, he sat with his back against the bed's headboard, and Clint snuggled up to Coulson's warmth.

Phil pulled the blanket up to Clint's shoulder, the boy wasn't asleep yet. He checked his watch; it was 1:00 AM. "Try to sleep?" He asked as he nibbled on the edge of his pen. "Your first day of school is in seven hours."

Clint climbed into Phil's lap, bringing the blanket with him, and Phil readjusted himself so that the two were comfortable. Clint's eyes eventually grew heavy. He closed his eyes and fell asleep, feeling the gentle kiss on his forehead before he drifted off.

* * *

"Rise and shine!" Coulson greeted cheerily as he saw Clint begin to stir.

Clint got out of bed, feeling refreshed. It was one of the best sleeps he had in a long time. He made his bed and trudged over to the bathroom to do his business, hearing Coulson call to him saying that his toothbrush was the purple one.

He brushed his teeth and stared at himself in the mirror.

"You look like a freak." He spoke aloud, glaring at himself. He clapped his cheeks to bring himself some more focus before leaving the bathroom. It was a defense mechanism he used. If he could accept what he was, then it shouldn't bother him as much.

As he returned to his room, he saw a set of clothing Mr. Coulson had left out for him. It was a black shirt with a simple red pattern that went vertically down his torso and across his chest. He put on a pair of blue jeans and ran around the house to find his new foster-person.

There was breakfast on one side of the table and Mr. Coulson at the other side. He took his seat and stared at his breakfast unsure whether to touch it or leave it.

"Go ahead." Phil encouraged. "You're going to need some energy for the day."

Clint took a sample bite from the scrambled eggs, showing no emotions as he did.

"You don't like it?" Phil frowned.

"I like it." He replied softly.

They got into the car after breakfast and Coulson couldn't help but notice discomfort scribbled all over Clint's face. "School will be great." He assured. "You'll make friends and you'll have a blast." Clint's silence gave him a heartache and he continuously peaked up to the rear view mirror to get a glance at the child. He could already tell that the boy had withdrew himself into his own protective barrier, masking himself with the I-don't-give-a-shit mask.

As they reached the school, they checked in with the principal, and an office aid took Clint away to his first class. The school had offered Clint if he wanted to watch Clint for a day, but disappointedly had to turn down the offer due to his line of work, but he made sure that his cellphone would always be open for a ring if anything happened.

* * *

Clint was guided into a classroom where the teacher greeted him with a motherly smile, one like Coulson's. It made him feel a bit better, but all of the other children staring at him made him feel more uncomfortable than did the smile made him feel better.

The teacher motioned him to come closer, and he did.

"Class, this is our new student, Clint Barton, he's in the third grade." She smiled. "Clint, this is a mixed class of third and forth graders. Would you like to say anything to the class?"

"No." Clint hissed.

She knew Clint wasn't in the mood to talk, so she sent him to sit down in the open seat at a table with two other boys.

As he sat down, the boy next to him with black hair combed neatly to the side extended his hand to shake as a mutual greeting. He sat straight with is chest held high, and a natural charisma that somehow radiated from his body. "I'm Tony." He replied. "Fourth grader."

When Clint didn't respond or take his hand, Tony didn't take it offensively. Instead, he pointed his thumb to the boy next to him in a green shirt who also had black hair, but it was sophistically slicked back. "And this is Loki." Tony continued. "Also fourth grader."

Clint leaned his cheek against his hand as if he was bored and completely uninterested. "So, are you two like brothers?" He asked dully.

"No." Loki frowned. "We are not, brothers. My brother's hair is blond, a bit brighter in color than yours."

"Huh. So your hair is black, but your brother hair is blonde? I thought all siblings have the same hair color." Clint smirked, attempting for a verbal attack.

Loki shrugged off Clint's words, but spoke uneasily. "I'm adopted."

"Really?" Clint asked. Before Loki could reply, Clint simply turned his head away, trying to tell the boys he wasn't interested in making friends.

When the bell rang to dismiss the children for lunch, Clint watched and waited as all the students rushed outside to play. He looked at his table, noting how Loki and Tony were still sitting at their desks.

"Aren't you two going to go outside?" The blond boy asked with a huff.

"Aren't you?" Tony retorted with a pay-back smile.

"Fine."

Clint got out of his seat and paced quickly out of the classroom. He found random spot on the playground that was fairly high. It was a clear area, and he was able to watch all the other students play. He noticed how all the students suddenly turned to look at him, and everything just stopped.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" A fifth grader yelled as he got close into Clint's face. "This is Fifth Grade Territory."

Clint evenly matched the older child's gaze, unaffected by how big or how much of a threat the other child could be. He had dealt with children like this, and it never became a big deal to him.

The fifth grade grabbed Clint by his shirt collar. "What are you doing here?" The boy snarled again.

Clint tried to pry the hand away from his shirt collar, but failed. He put his hands down and leaned backwards with his full weight so that the boy either had to release his hold, or come down with him.

The older boy released his grip and Clint fell on his bottom. He stood up, matching his height to only up to the other boy's chest and just smirked. He laughed a little before keeping silent and watching the children play.

"Clint!" Tony shouted as he tried to get up on the playground. A wall of fifth and forth graders blocking his path. "Let me get through! He's my friend!"

Clint's ears caught onto the word and turned his head curiously. Suddenly, he felt his foot being grabbed, and looked down to see Loki who had climbed up the long, twisty slide. With a devilish smirk, Loki pulled Clint down the slide, bringing them both to safety.

Tony was quick to end his distraction and went off to see Clint.

"You should be more careful, those kids could really pack a punch." Tony warned as he began to nonchalantly brush off the dirt from Clint's shirt.

"I don't care." Clint glared, before walking off.

Tony and Loki shrugged and continued to follow Clint anyway. They took a seat on each side of the swings, with Clint in the middle.

Clint pouted and pushed himself off, then sharply turned around. "Why do you guys keep following me?"

Loki shrugged.

"You're, sort of interesting, and mysterious." Tony mentioned.

"Mysterious?" Clint cocked his head.

"Shrouded in a mist." Loki tried to clarify.

"I don't understand you guys."

"I transferred here a year ago, and Loki came here a few months ago." Tony began. "Us new guys got to stick together."

"We can be friends." Loki offered again, extending his hand.

Clint looked down. "I can't." He whispered.

Tony and Loki could see that Clint was almost about to cry, so they took him to a safe, isolated place where they could talk in private. They sat down behind one of the classroom portables and sat close to Clint, trying to provide him with comfort.

"Are you okay Clint?" Loki asked.

Clint shook his head furiously. "I don't want to have friends."

"Why not?" Tony exclaimed. "Friends are the best thing in the world! If we become friends, I can introduce you to the coolest middle schooler named Steve and Bruce! They're the best, they take us on adventures!"

"And I can introduce you to my brother Thor and his friend Natasha." Loki added quickly with much excitement. "They're really nice too."

Clint began to feel overwhelmed and taken-back. He brought his knees to his chest and wanted more than anything but to cry. Tony brought an arm around Clint and pulled him in, onto his shoulder. "Tell us what's wrong Clint. Maybe we can help. Even if you don't think we're friends, I still think we are."

The blond sighed. "Before I was adopted, I lived with mommy and da—him, and I had an older brother."

Loki sat, listening intently, suddenly feeling engaged into the story Clint had to tell.

"Mommy loves me, my brother and he didn't and they'd hurt me." Clint sobbed. He broke down and couldn't get any more words to slip his mouth. He just began choking on his tears and buried his head deep into his knees.

"Who do you live with now?" Tony asked.

"Mr. Coulson." Clint responded.

"Mr. Coulson? Phil?" Tony asked with a raised eyebrow. Loki's expression was also one of surprise.

Clint nodded and Tony ran off before Clint could ask him anything. Loki backed up against the portable and looked up to the sky before taking a peak to Clint. He gave Clint a hug to try to comfort him in the only way he knew how. "My mom and dad used to hurt me too." Loki spoke gently.

Clint looked up teary eyed.

"It's true." Loki continued as he twisted his fingers together. "They used to hurt me a lot. Then Thor and his family came along and saved me." He turned his head to meet Clint's blue eyes, seeing if he was still listening. "Did Mr. Coulson save you too?"

The eight year old didn't even have to think about it, but he waited before nodding his head up and down.

Loki licked his lips in thought. "Whenever something is bothering me, Thor told me to talk about it. It's supposed to make you feel better."

"Does it, work?" Clint asked between a hiccup.

"It doesn't make the problem go away, but it makes you feel better knowing someone truly cares." Loki smiled. "Sometimes, it helps to open up a little to someone you trust."

Footsteps approached behind the portables and Coulson immediately squatted down to his Clint. He immediately stroked the cropped blond hair and wrapped his palm around the soft cheek.

"Are you alright?" Coulson asked. "Do you want to go home?"

Clint nodded, and stretched out his arms to be held.

Phil lifted Clint into his arms and Clint instinctively wrapped his arms around Phil's neck in search of the comfort that only Phil could give.

"Thank you boys." Phil expressed to Tony and Loki. "I'll come pick you boys up after school."

Tony and Loki nodded simultaneously to their babysitter.

"Be good to him." Loki threatened lightly before the bell rang. The two fourth graders ran off to their classrooms while Coulson went in the opposite direction to take Clint home.

To be continued…

* * *

Chapter 2 (Preview)

Coulson kicked off his shoes as he entered his home, still in his suit and tie. He walked into the living room connected kitchen and set Clint on the couch. He got down to one knee and looked at him at eye level with concern. "Would you like to tell me what happened?" Coulson asked as he took off his blazer.

Clint sniffled, wiping his runny nose with his forearm. His lip was still trembling and he simply stared at Mr. Coulson with large, sad blue eyes.

Phil had to bite his lip from making dorky faces at such a serious time. Clint was just too cute. Then suddenly, the doorbell rang. "I'll be right back." Phil responded, "why don't you help yourself to the fridge?"

He stumbled off the couch as he watched Coulson go for the door. He walked into the kitchen area and placed his hand around the door handle. He questioned if he should open it, and ended up standing idly in his position.

"Who's this?" Another black haired boy shouted excitedly. He had messy, curly hair, and was wearing a green polo shirt and pants with a shade crossed between a deep purple or a deep blue.

Clint stepped backwards hesitantly and another boy came into view. Blonde hair with his hair combed neatly to the side. "Step back Bruce. You're scaring him." The taller boy stated, as he approached slowly to Clint as if he were a frighten wild animal. "Hey there, I'm Steve Rogers."

Clint mustered up the strength he could get and changed from his scared look into one of confidence and perkiness. He puffed his chest out, trying to match the height of the other two boys who were a good foot taller than he was. "Are you related to Mr. Rogers?" Clint asked flatly, trying to maintain some composure.


	2. Still Fearful

**Thank you for reading, reviewing, favoring, and alerting! It means a lot to me that people are actually interested in reading this AU fic xD and it keeps me motivated to keep writing for you guys!**

**Taking SATs and playing badminton this Saturday and studying on Friday which is why this chapter is uploaded today instead of June 2nd (intended date).  
**

Wants and Needs

Chapter 2

Still Fearful

Coulson kicked off his shoes as he entered his home, still in his suit and tie. He walked into the living room connected kitchen and set Clint on the couch. He got down to one knee and looked at him at eye level with concern. "Would you like to tell me what happened?" Coulson asked as he took off his blazer.

Clint sniffled, wiping his runny nose with his forearm. His lip was still trembling and he simply stared at Mr. Coulson with large, sad blue eyes.

Phil had to bite his lip from making dorky faces at such a serious time. Clint was just too cute. Then suddenly, the doorbell rang. "I'll be right back." Phil responded, "why don't you help yourself to the fridge?"

He stumbled off the couch as he watched Coulson go for the door. He walked into the kitchen area and placed his hand around the door handle. He questioned if he should open it, and ended up standing idly in his position.

"Who's this?" Another black haired boy shouted excitedly. He had messy, curly hair, and was wearing a green polo shirt and pants with a shade crossed between a deep purple or a deep blue.

Clint stepped backwards hesitantly and another boy came into view. Blonde hair with his hair combed neatly to the side. "Step back Bruce. You're scaring him." The taller boy stated, as he approached slowly to Clint as if he were a frighten wild animal. "Hey there, I'm Steve Rogers."

Clint mustered up the strength he could get and changed from his scared look into one of confidence and perkiness. He puffed his chest out, trying to match the height of the other two boys who were a good foot taller than he was. "Are you related to Mr. Rogers?" Clint asked flatly, trying to maintain some composure.

The boy behind the blonde grinned lightly, clasping a hand over Steve's shoulder. "So are you?" Bruce taunted out of harmless fun.

"Shut up!" Steve yelled playfully, before elbowing the boy behind him.

Clint suddenly felt his stomach twist as he watched the boys wrestle. Besides being obviously larger than he was, they also seemed to have some moves he was unfamiliar with. He darted towards Phil as soon as he came into view and hid behind his leg.

"Boys, behave yourself." Coulson warned and the two quickly broke up their fight.

"Sorry Coulson." Steve apologized, releasing Bruce from a sleeper hold.

"Mind telling me why you're here so early?" The older man continued with a keen sense of disappointment.

Glaring at the curly haired boy, Steve explained. "Bruce tried to blow up the classroom in chemistry."

"I didn't try to blow it up." Bruce defended. "I was simply experimenting and something went wrong."

"Well, nothing would have gone wrong if you just stuck to the instructions."

Bruce just shrugged before plopping himself onto the couch. "The biggest contributions made in science didn't follow any instructions." He muttered under his breath before turning on the television with the nearby remote.

Coulson was about to lecture the two misbehaviors, but instead, he snapped his fingers brightly. He nudged Clint to stand in front of him, hoping that his boy wouldn't be too shy. "Steve, Bruce, this is my new, adopted son, Clint Barton." He beamed proudly as he placed both his hands on Clint's shoulder. "He's a little timid, but he's a nice boy."

"So that's who he was." Steve smiled. "We sort of met a little earlier, but Bruce scared him away."

"Why don't you boys play together for a while?"

"Not sure if we can Coulson." Bruce began. "We promised to catch up with Thor and Natasha today."

Coulson shook his head desperately. "Steve, Bruce, work's been very busy for me lately and your parents had already agreed to let me borrow you two as babysitters after you phoned them and they phoned me. I don't mind if you boys invite Natasha and Thor, but you must also watch after Loki, Tony, and Clint."

The duo had a somewhat disappointed look on their face, but soon agreed since they had millions of favors they owed Coulson anyway. Steve took the pizza money Coulson handed him along with his emergency contacts while Bruce began to leave text messages.

"I have to leave for work now, but I'll be back to drop off Tony and Loki—"

"Don't worry about it, we'll pick up the tots." Bruce offered. "Thor is Loki's brother anyway. We'll go meet up with Natasha and Thor and head over to pick up the kids."

"Thanks, you boys are a life savior." Phil puffed before snagging his blazer and quickly leaving the house.

The door suddenly swung open again and he paced to Clint, bending over to give him a comforting hug. "Steve and Bruce will protect you while I'm at work," he whispered softly in Clint's ear, "I'll be home by tonight. Be good." He kissed Clint's forehead.

Clint instinctively clutched onto the edges of Coulson's suit, and the older man turned around. He got down on to his knees and gave Clint another hug. "Trust me a little," Coulson urged in a sweet tone. "Can you do that for me? There's no reason to be scared."

The small child quickly released his grip on the quality fabric and spun around with a sullen look. "I'm not scared." He stated with his back faced to Phil. He felt a chin rest on his shoulder, and he knew what his foster-person wanted to hear. "I trust you." He murmured back.

Phil released a breath and ruffled the cropped hair before leaving. If Clint's heart had a face, it would be frowning.

"You alright kid?" Steve asked from the couch. "Come sit, watch the television set with us."

He frowned when Clint shook his head no, and went to approach him slowly. With his arms extending carefully, he managed to place his hands on the boy's hips and lifted him up into the air. Steve studied the confused look in Clint's face. The child wasn't scared, and it seemed that he was enjoying the change of height. He spun Clint around for one rotation before settling him back to the ground.

Steve could see Clint's eyes glitter, but his face showed minimal sign of interest. It was good enough for now. He figured the sudden transition of adoption was still leaving him a little stunned.

"Anything you want to do?" Steve asked.

"Do you have any toys?" Bruce suggested.

"I have Legos." Clint replied with little interest. He took his cue to run into his room and fetch his unopened box of Legos. He placed the box in front the three of them as they all sat down on the rug. Clint fiddled with the plastic, twisting his lip in all sorts of frustrated shapes when the plastic refused to pull off.

"Here," Bruce offered. "I didn't cut my nails yet." He ran his finger through a tighter seal of the plastic and it peeled right off the box. The trio opened the box and fished through the Lego pieces. They were all white, and despite how the box was labeled "Basic Lego Set 1A," the set contained more intricate pieces than it did basic ones.

"What the heck are these?" Bruce asked with confusion as he examined pieces he'd never seen before.

Steve took the cover of the box, "it's a 1A starter set." He commented.

"A what?"

"They're like starter kits they give to those who enter Lego building competitions."

The black haired boy leaned back lazily while aimlessly connected random blocks together. "You would know that. You practically live with Legos. Lego sculptures, Lego candy, Lego girlfriend—"

"Mr. Rogers have Legos?" Clint asked, eyebrows raised, with lips put loosely into an "O."

"He used to join competitions," Bruce smirked. "He'd win too."

_Wow… _"What happened?" Clint continued to ask, trying his best to mask his interested expressions as he did.

Steve rubbed the back of his head modestly. "I took up drawing because it was more convenient and I didn't have the time to really play with Legos anymore. It's still equally fun." He ran his fingers through his blond hair before asking, "so Clint, do you plan on joining any competitions?"

The little boy brought his shoulders up before dramatically letting them fall back down. "I like Legos, but I like Nerf better."

Bruce and Steve looked at each other simultaneously, and spoke to each other as if on cue, "we need to show him Loki and Natasha's room."

A little beep went off and Bruce took out his cellphone. "Gotta' start getting to school."

Steve nodded. They put the tiny white bricks back into its box and on the coffee table nearby. Steve took the spare keys from the key hanger and the trio emptied the house and onto the streets.

The sun was still up, providing a warm breath of heat. The warmth that touched Clint's cheeks reminded him of his mother, and the way he felt whenever she held him closely. He could remember the soft feel of his mother's cheek pressed against his when she held him for a close embrace. It didn't matter what had happened at the time, he just remembered that mother's hugs always made everything better.

He totted behind Steve and Bruce, unable to keep up with their walking stride, but was feeling as carefree as ever whenever a ray of sun hit his skin just right.

Steve turned around as he heard weary feet tapping against the cement. Feeling that enough trust was built between the two of them, he lifted Clint up and hoisted him on his shoulders. Clint straddled Steve's neck between his legs while grabbing two tiny fists-full of blond hair as he kept balance, feeling Steve's protective grip on his shins.

He liked to look around at such height. Clint was usually the shortest of boys in his age range, so being at a higher level lifted his mood greatly.

As they arrived to the school, the bell had just rung. Students began to file out of classrooms before running off to meet up with their friends. A group of girls had begun to swarm around Bruce and Steve, most of whom, they did not know.

But they weren't interested in Steve or Bruce this time, they were interested with what was riding on Steve's shoulders.

"He's soo—o cute Steve!" One of the girls squealed as she reached up to pet Clint's shoulder. "Is he your brother?"

Steve could feel Clint stick his face into his neatly combed hair and took him off from his shoulders. "He's the son of someone I know." He responded as he held Clint in his arms, soothingly rubbing the child's back.

"Steve! Bruce! Good afternoon to you!" A thunderous voice roared amongst the small crowd.

"Afternoon." Bruce replied.

"Steve, I did not know you had a brother." The long, blond hared male spoke with a hint of surprise and delight.

"He's not my brother. He's Coulson's son."

"Coulson's finally adopted." Natasha stated with satisfaction as she walked through the crowd. "So, what's the plan for today."

"Pick up Loki and Tony then back to Coulson's place to hang out." Bruce explained. "Coulson's busy today and needs an extra pair of hands to take care of the kids. Apparently, we had volunteered."

"No big deal." Natasha assured along with a simple hand gesture. "I love kids."

"Yeah," Bruce commented jokingly, "but it seems this kid only likes Phil. Maybe a bit for Steve too."

Clint's ear twitched as he picked up Bruce's teasing voice and began to kick in Steve's hands. The older boy placed him down to the cement and Clint pursed his lips to the corner of his mouth in dissatisfaction.

"Looks like you made him a bit angry, Bruce." Natasha chuckled as she tried to give Clint a pat.

Clint dodged her touch and turned his head to the side, looking away from the middle school students all together. He was offended, not at Steve, but being in Steve's arms seemed to have added on to the teasing. He was tired of hearing such things and waited as the older kids caught up and began to walk to their second destination.

"Need a lift?" Steve offered as he reached out to pick up Clint.

"No." Clint growled, swatting the blonde's hands away. He regretted his action when he began to grow tired. The older kids had longer legs and were able to keep a longer stride than his smaller limbs could. Thankfully, they arrived to the elementary school shortly. The students had already been released. He could spot Tony and Loki stand from the pickup area, supervised by other teachers.

"Thor!" Loki shouted as he ran towards his brother with extended arms. "Are we going to Philip's house today?"

Thor smiled as he lifted Loki easily in his hands. "Yes little brother, we are."

"That's Loki's brother?" Clint asked bluntly in slight confusion. "I thought that was a girl."

"Nooo, that's Thor, Loki's older brother." Tony corrected. "Just because someone has long hair doesn't mean they're a girl."

"I didn't know!" Clint shot back defensively, darting off in another direction.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way." The black haired boy insisted, but the third grader had already ran off.

"Ah, damn it. Wait here guys." Steve commanded as he jogged towards Clint who was still in view.

* * *

The bright sun still was beaming down, but regardless, the warmth wasn't keeping him in a cheery mood anymore. The light teasing was taken more seriously than anyone had imagined, and Tony's correction made him feel as if he was stupid. He stopped in his tracks and bent over with his hands on his knees to breath in deeply.

Clint fell to his knees in defeat and clenched his hands furiously. The low, jagged shape of his chewed nails were still enough to temporarily dent the skin on his palms as he clenched his fists out of frustration.

"_Idiot!" He heard another child his age taunt, waving a finger in front of his face. _

"_We can't adopt him, there's probably something wrong with him for his parents to leave him here." He heard a couple say._

"_Just ship him out as soon as possible. He's becoming a handful."_

He saw a shadow stand over him and he backed up astonished. His back hit a pair of hard legs and he looked up to see Steve standing overhead. His lower lip was pressed out into a pout and he turned his gaze back down as he continued to hear the cruel voices from left to right.

Clint pressed his palms to his ears and shook his head, as if trying to deny all the voices that kept filling his head.

"Clint?" Steve called as he reached the sitting boy. He reached out to touch Clint, but Clint's hand came in quickly and shoved him away. He turned around protectively as he heard a mesh of footsteps coming towards him with haste, but dropped his guard as he simply saw familiar faces.

Tony rushed up to Clint, "I'm sorry Clint!" He apologized as he stood in front of the panicking child.

Though, Clint seemed to still be lost in his trance. He continued to push his palms to his ears harder and continued to shake his head wildly. Steve tried to lift him up again, but Clint squirmed out of his hands and backed away from them defensively.

"Clint?" Loki spoke in a soft, caring voice. He tottered to Clint and sat crisscrossed in front of him. Loki weaved his hand between Clint's and grabbed onto the little boy's fingers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Clint kept his eyes shut, but hastily removed his other hand from his ear to latch onto Loki's hand. He rammed his head into Loki's torso in search of comfort, and the black haired boy helped him get back onto his feet.

"Are you okay?" Loki asked in a mew.

Clint nodded into his shirt before removing his head from where it didn't belong. "I'm sorry." He muttered and Loki gave Clint a pat on his head.

"It's okay. We're friends remember?"

Tony ran back up to Clint, shouting another apology, which this time, Clint accepted without doubt.

"Let's go ride our horseys back to Clint's house." Loki smirked as the mood began to brighten. He waved his hand towards Thor, Bruce, Natasha who began to walk towards them when Clint gave him a look of confusion. He ran towards his older brother and climbed onto his back, small hands gripping tightly to broad shoulders.

Clint quickly approached Steve who lifted him onto his shoulders, which made Loki mimic the action too. He copied Clint, tangling his fingers into Thor's long hair for support.

Tony, without a horse, walked towards Natasha, giving her one of his infamous puppy faces.

"Oh, alright." She offered, lifting Tony to sit on her shoulders. Tony placed his chin in her brown hair and held on by her forehead. It was an awkward position, but it was oddly comfortable to him.

"Chargeeeee!" Loki shouted, and Thor began a light jog to Coulson's house.

Steve looked at Clint who's actions seemed engaged, but his emotions were distant. "Aren't you going to tell me to run?" He asked.

"No." Clint frowned, remembering what had happened when he had asked for anything. "You'll run when you want to, I won't make you."

Steve looked at Clint quizzically. "Uhm, then are you ready?"

"Are you?"

"GO NATASHA!" Tony screamed with a giggle, and she began a hustled run before lightly jogging behind Loki and Thor. Bruce seemed to just sigh and began to follow aimlessly behind the others.

The two blondes looked at each other and Clint watched puzzled as Steve only kicked his feet into the sidewalk.

Clint rested his head his head into the soft bed of blonde hair and just watched as his friends grew smaller as they rode off along the sidewalk. He heard Steve speak as they remained idle. "Sometimes, it's okay to want something. If you want me to go, just say so." He urged, noting how Clint would sometimes suddenly withdraw into his own time and space.

"Go." Clint spoke in a murmur.

"Hm?"

"Go."

"What was that?"

"GO!"

Steve smirked. "Hang on."

Clint could feel the grip around his shin tighten, and he clutched onto Steve's hair. Steve was an extremely fast runner, and they caught up to their group in no time flat. He easily overtook Thor who was previously in the lead and they continued their race until they reached Coulson's house.

Steve ran up the porch and pressed his hand to the front door. "We win!" Steve huffed amiably to Clint. "We make a great team."

"But you were running, I was just sitting and pulling out your hair." Clint stated plainly as he climbed down from Steve's back.

"Well, you're lighter than Loki or Tony, letting me run faster." He suggested, trying to let Clint take the credit he deserved, but Clint wasn't buying it.

Bruce, Thor, and Natasha came trailing behind in which Loki shouted, "Aww! Clint won," and honestly, that made Clint beam a little inside.

Steve unlocked the door and they all filed inside. While the others were settling down, he quickly dialed the nearest pizzeria and made an order. As they all rested on the couch and the floor for a short while, their food had arrived. He stood up from the couch and brought in the box of pizza.

"Here guys, eat up." Steve said as he opened the box of pizza split into thirds. One part of the pizza was sausage, another part was Hawaiian, and the other part was combination.

Each individual, with a personal choice already in mind, went to snag their share, while Clint quizzically stared at the food.

"Aren't you hungry?" Steve asked.

"No." Clint lied, grabbing his stomach as it growled angrily. He still wasn't used to being offered food so openly; the situation felt more threatening than it did inviting. His finger tapped against the table as his mind began to war at itself. _Mr. Coulson told you to put a little trust in him! These people are nice, and Loki and Tony are your friends! _He could only look back to the worried eyes when he decided to stay still instead of taking a bite.

The little blond boy snapped out of his trance, asking shyly while letting his guard fall a bit, "which one taste good?" Clint murmured.

"Cheese!" Loki shouted with glee. He explained to Clint how he would pick the sausage bits off the pizza and just eat it as tomato sauce, bread, and cheese. According to Loki, simplicity was what tasted the best, and tossed the underappreciated meat pieces onto Tony's slice.

Tony shook his head lightly while trying to finish up his mouthful. "Nuh-uh," he argued, "it's better with the sausage because it's like a cheeseburger… without the lettuce."

"If you don't know what to get, you can just try a little bit of everything." Bruce suggested, offering him the other half of his combination pizza.

"What do you like Mr. Rogers?"

Natasha giggled. "You're so adorable!"

Clint didn't try to hide this time and kept his composure relaxed as she pinched his cheek. He actually felt fond of the gesture when Natasha did it, it was rather heart-warming. He instinctively held onto Natasha's wrist in a friendly gesture until she let go.

Rogers shrugged. "No favorites. I'm not too picky." He replied as he nibbled on a Hawaiian slice. "Here, take a bite." He offered as he nudged the pizza near his mouth.

Clint took a small test taste, and seemed satisfied how the pineapple pieces gave a bit of a tangy element to the pizza slice. The ham added a slight savory side, which was a good enough balance for him. With little arms extended, he lifted a slice of pizza from the box and began to munch on it with much delight.

"Has Clint Barton never had pizza before?" Thor asked curiously. He saw how the boy shrank back and just continued to nibble. Clint could feel his face light up in embarrassment as he did his best to turn his cheek towards Thor. "Do not feel embarrassed," Thor added as he swallowed the crust, "I have not had pizza until a few months ago. We did not have pizza from where I lived."

"Where did you live?" Clint gasped. Even though he had never had pizza growing up, he sure as hell heard of it.

"Asgard."

"Asgard?" Clint repeated.

"He does this all the time!" Tony joined in with a whine. "He says Asgard is somewhere in outer space! No one can live in outer space!"

Loki shoved the rest of his food down his throat, "The Asgardians live in outer space!"

"There's no such thing as Asgardians!" Tony argued back.

"I'm an Asgardian!"

Tony threw down his pizza slice, suddenly no longer feeling hungry. "The teacher says you're Scandinavian!"

"I'm NOT Scandinavian!" Loki jumped up and ran off into the deeper ends of Clint's home.

"You better apologize to Loki." Natasha scolded. She furrowed her brow as Tony crossed his arms and stubbornly pouted. He defiantly wasn't ready to apologize, not while he knew that nothing lived in space. Tony simply got up and ran off into one of the rooms. Everyone heard a loud slam from the door, then Clint stood up and started running.

He darted to his room and shut the door, locking it immediately. His eyes scanned the area and he snatched the blanket and tucked himself underneath his bed. He couldn't stop his heart from racing when the situation went from light and airy, to tense and scary.

Of course, everyone fights sometimes, Clint knew that, but he was caught off guard when the swarm of heated emotions quickly consumed him. The "fighting" Clint had become accustomed to watching was of his brother mercilessly backhanding him in front of a mirror. Though the situation was different, the emotions were high enough to trigger the memory.

He felt the fluff of his blanket touch his cheek and warm his body as he curled away into his own soft ball.

"Clint?" He could hear Steve call from the other side of the door as he knocked a couple of times. "Are you alright?"

Clint didn't move. He was still frozen in his own past and the concerned knocking sounded dangerous in his mind. He curled inwards, head to chest, and tried to control his unsteady breaths.

* * *

Natasha knocked on the door that was slammed shut. It was Coulson's "work" room. Trying the door knob and finding the door was unlocked, she welcomed herself inside where she found Tony in the corner with his arms hugging his knees and a stubborn pout still laced on his lips.

Tony made a loud "hmph!" noise, turning his head dramatically, refusing to face Natasha.

"Tony." She sighed and took a seat next to him. "What you did earlier, it wasn't nice."

"But no one can live in space!" He insisted.

"Do you believe in Santa Claus?"

"No." Tony replied easily, furrowing a brow.

"Tooth fairy?"

"No."

Natasha thought for a moment. Tony wasn't your average, everyday fourth grader, he had much more intelligence imbedded in him than anyone could have ever imagined. She gave herself another minute to live in Tony's world, trying to imagine the stories he listened to growing up.

Then she knew.

"Do you believe the arc reactor can successfully be built?" Natasha asked. "Will we ever be able to run on clean, self-sustaining energy?"

"Yes." Tony answered without second doubts.

"So why can't Asgardians live in space?"

He stuck out his lip some more, trying to make his point. "Because Asgardians don't exist! Nothing lives in space!"

"The arc reactor doesn't exist."

"Not yet!" Tony tried.

"How will we ever know if something ever will exist?" Natasha ran her fingers through her hair. "Tony, you believe in the arc reactor just like how Loki believes in the Asgardians. We can't be sure whether or not something exist or will exist, but we let others believe that it will, okay? That's what friends should do."

He nodded with a frown, finally understanding why Loki was so upset. He didn't realize that he may have attacked Loki with his words, and was quick to regret it. Getting up onto his feet, he muttered, "I have to tell Loki I'm sorry."

Tony picked up his pace and ran through Coulson's house trying to find Loki.

She smiled when she was able to through to the younger boy. As she took steps out of Coulson's office room, carefully shutting the door behind her, she saw Steve stand in the hallways with his hand gently fumbling with the door knob.

"Need some help there?" She teased. "You just turn the knob now a days."

"Clint locked himself inside." Steve spoke softly. "He's upset."

"How come?"

"I don't think he likes watching others fight." The blond replied as he remembered how Clint hid behind Coulson's legs when he and Bruce was wrestling.

* * *

Tony tottered into the bathroom where Loki sat on a closed toilet lid and Thor kneeled in front of him, looking at him at eye level. He turned his head when he saw Tony enter the room and allowed the little boy to come closer.

Tony looked down shyly. "I'm sorry Loki. I didn't mean to be mean to you." He apologized as how any fourth grader should.

Loki nodded, but still was a little offended. "I forgive you this time." He replied, still frowning with puffy cheeks.

Thor maneuvered himself out of the way and allowed Tony to snatch his little brother's hand, pulling the dark haired boy off the toilet seat.

"Let's go play with Clint!" Tony smiled, He led Loki out of the room with haste, and Thor trailed off behind the two boys. They stopped as they saw Natasha, Steve, and Bruce stand in the middle of the hallway, kneeling in front of a door knob.

Natasha had a few metal wires and paperclips bent in her hand. She slipped them into the lock of the door, her face changing with disapproval when the pieces didn't fit the way she wanted them to.

"What's happening?" Loki asked curiously, releasing Tony's hand to go inspect the situation.

"Clint locked himself inside." Steve sighed. "I think you two scared him off."

"How?" Tony asked, tilting his head in confusion. "We weren't fighting about him."

"He's a little sensitive." Bruce added.

The two fourth graders felt bad for scaring away their new friend. Tony knocked on the door with his little knuckles, calling out Clint's name.

"Stop it! I didn't do anything wrong!" They heard Clint scream from the other side of the door.

"Clint! It's Tony!"

"And Loki!" The little Asgardian added.

There was no reply, and the group of friends instantly became worried.

"We should call Coulson." Steve muttered. Before he could leave to get the phone, Bruce extended his arm, stopping the blond from making his move.

"Wait a bit." Bruce began. He held the knob of the door firmly in his hand and gently tapped his shoulder against the wood experimentally. With one good push, the door swung open without falling off the hinges.

"Clint?" The two younger children shouted, tottering over to look under the desks and the closet.

Clint shrank back as he saw multiple pairs of feet come into view. He threw the blanket over his head as his heart began to pound faster. A set of feet came closer to the edge of the bed, then the person fell to their knees.

"Clint!" Loki smiled as he looked under the bed.

"Marghh! I didn't do anything!" The young blonde screamed in fright, protecting himself in a wrapping of fabric.

Steve came down quickly, gently moving Loki to the side and extended his arms to reach for Clint under the bed. His hands were kicked away frantically, and he withdrew them, hoping that he hadn't scared the boy too much.

Tony crawled under the bed, Loki following after.

"Come out Clint! Pleaseee!" Tony begged, but Clint didn't hear him. The blonde had begun to tune out as many voices and as many noises as he possibly could. He hummed loudly to himself, covering his ears with both hands.

Loki tried to tug Clint back into reality, but to his dismay, his friend only curled further into his own world with his eyes shut tightly.

The doorbell rang and Bruce turned his head to the digital clock in the room. "Guys, it's 8:00PM. Coulson's home."


End file.
